Primary Issues
by GingerWitchWriter
Summary: Rose and Hugo currently attend a Muggle Primary School. Tonight is parents evening and Hermione is stuck at work, Ron is going to have to brave it alone...
1. Chapter 1

_Yes! I am finally back with a brand new story for you. I know it's been awhile, but January is always a weird month for me and this one was full of ups and downs, that I won't bore you with._

 _Anyway, this little offering is sadly, only 3 chapters long...but it's amusing (or I think it is!) and was all inspired by me imagining Ron trying to style his daughter's hair...this is the result of that. I hope you enjoy – please let me know._

* * *

 **Chapter One**

"I'll race you home!" My seven year old daughter, Rose, punched her brother's arm before speeding off down the old farm lane.

"Daaad!" Almost five year old Hugo looked up at me and whined.

"Well, go catch her up then," I told him, taking hold of the jacket that he was already shoving at me before he sped off too. I kept an eye on them whilst trying to juggle everything I was carrying – two book bags, two lunch boxes, a PE kit and now two jackets. Why was it the minute I picked my kids up from school, they seemed completely unable to carry anything anymore? Like as soon as they left the school grounds they lost all ability to use their arms?

I sighed, hitched everything up and sauntered after them, hoping they'd burn off some energy before we reached the house. This was my secret tactic – only Apparate them half way home, then they got to use of up some of that energy and hopefully give me an easier time once we got home. And, since we lived on the rural outskirts of the village and not overlooked by anyone, it was easy to get away with Apparating around here.

By the time I joined them at the gate they were jumping about, waiting for me to lift the wards for them to enter our property. The old paranoia from our time hunting Horcuxes and then a career as an Auror never totally left and I wanted my family to be safe. Rose was bragging about how she'd won the race and Hugo was claiming she was a cheater – the pair of them bickering back and forth. I rolled my eyes, thinking it was going to be one of those afternoons.

"Come on," I sighed, swishing my wand towards the house and heading up the garden path.

"What we doing this afternoon daddy?" Rose asked as I recast the wards on the house behind us and unlocked the door.

"Erm, I dunno. What do you want to do?" I asked, almost falling over as Hugo pushed by and barrelled into the house ahead of me. "Oi!" I yelled at him.

"What's for tea?" he called back.

"Actually," I began whilst hanging up coats and sorting out bags. "Mummy and Daddy have to go out for a couple of hours tonight, so I'm dropping you at Grandma Weasley's and she's making you tea tonight."

"Yes!" Hugo pumped his fist.

"Is your Dad's cooking that bad?" I asked him, picking up the lunch boxes and heading down the hall towards the kitchen.

"No," he shrugged, "but Grandma always lets us have two lots of pudding. And Mummy never does!" he grinned.

"Yeah, there is that," I sighed, imagining one of my Mum delicious sticky and sweet puddings. "Oi! Shoes off. You know what you Mum will say," I warned him as he traipsed down the hall after me.

"But Dad...I want to go play in the garden, so I'll only have to put them straight back on again," he reasoned.

"All right, fine. Just go quick then," I told him, not in the mood to argue.

"Daddy! Daddy!" Rose was squealing for me from the kitchen and I decided what we were going to do this afternoon – all take a nap! That sounded like a marvellous idea.

"What?" I called, setting the lunch boxes on the worktop so I could empty them and wash them later – why did kids always bring home half eaten food? What was with that? Can't they just throw it away at school or something? Because it was not my idea of fun pulling out smashed crackers or squashed, soggy cakes or an apple with one bite taken out of it.

"There's an owl outside. It's got a letter Dad," she informed me, tugging on my jumper as I grimaced at the state of their lunch boxes again.

I turned and saw what she was on about. A tawny owl, that didn't belong to us, was hopping impatiently on the back doorstep, glaring through the glass kitchen door. I sighed, realising that it looked like a Ministry owl since I could see the purple tag on it's leg, and that it could only mean one thing – bad news.

The moment Hugo opened the door to run outside, the owl hopped in, sticking his leg out for me to remove the letter. No doubt Hugo was off to get out his junior broom and fly around the garden again. Hermione still didn't want him to have a more grown up broom – she was terrified he'd fall off.

"Stay in the garden, Hugo!" I warned him, closing the door after him and unrolling the letter. Rose was sat on the floor, fussing the owl and feeding him treats. Leaning against the worktop, I began reading my letter.

 _'Ron,_

 _I'm sorry. I've been summoned to a late hearing and I don't think I'm going to make it home in time for the school parents evening tonight.'_

"Well, shit!" I hissed.

"Daddy!" Rose scolded me.

"What?" I turned to look at her.

"That's a naughty word!" she told me, eyes scowling at me.

"Sorry," I sighed, wondering, not for the first time, why my daughter had to be an almost exact replica of her mother. I mean, not that that was a bad thing – she was as beautiful and smart and loving as Hermione was, but she also liked her rules just like her mother.

I continued reading my letter.

 _'Please go ahead without me. It's really important that at least one of us attends. You can fill me in on it all later. Just to remind you, we have a meeting booked with Hugo's teacher, Mrs Prendergast, at 5.15 and then a meeting with Rose's teacher, Mr Clayton, at 5.35. Please don't be late and don't worry about it, you'll be fine._

 _I'll see you later, I'm sorry._

 _Love you_

 _Hermione x'_

"Oh great!" I muttered, now running a hand through my hair as I read the letter over again. "That's just bloody great!" I moaned.

"Daddy!" Rose piped up again.

"Sorry Rose."

"You know what you have to do now!" she eyed me sternly. Like I said – just like her Mum. Or at least behaved the same way her mum had over rules at school anyway. She pointedly looked towards the jar sat on the shelf. "Mummy says you have to put a knut in the jar when you say bad words!" she reminded me.

"Fine," I rummaged in my pocket and, fixing her with a stare, dropped a coin into the jar. "Better?" I asked.

She smiled and got up off the floor, brushing her hands off. "Yes. But you shouldn't say naughty words! Mummy says it's not nice."

"Fine, I'll try to remember that. Why don't you let the owl out now? He'll probably want to get back to work and..." Just then the door crashed open and Hugo barged through.

"It's raining!" he grunted, stomping his foot for good measure. Which made the owl give a disgruntled hoot and fly off out the still open doorway, after leaving a deposit on the kitchen floor.

"Eurgh!" Rose shrieked at it.

"Yep, it's raining," I confirmed Hugo's statement looking out the window and going to close the door he'd left open, only just missing the mess the owl had left behind. I vanished it with a flick of my wand.

"So, now I can't play outside on my broom 'cause I'm getting wet. I never get to play on my broom!" he sulked.

"That's not true!" Rose told him, hands on her hips. "You played just yesterday and the day before and..."

"Did not!" he shouted back.

I rolled my eyes at the pair of them. "Look Hugo, I'm sorry about the rain, there's nothing I can do to fix that I'm afraid. But it's Friday tomorrow, then we can all go flying together at the weekend, okay?" I suggested, hoping to appease him and prevent an argument escalating between them.

"Okay," he grumbled, sullenly.

I smiled and ruffled his hair. "Now, why don't you two go up and get changed whilst I fix you a snack?" I suggested, realising I should have insisted Hugo got out of his school uniform before he went to play in the back garden. "Then we'll find something fun to do for a bit."

They both cheered up at that idea and raced one another up the stairs. Once they were gone, I put the kettle on and prepared something for them to eat. They were back in mere minutes, just as I placed a plate of biscuits along with the chopped apple and some carrot sticks onto the table and a glass of pumpkin juice each. Finally, I sat down myself with my cup of tea and gave a long grateful groan. The shop had been hectic today with problem after problem, so this was the first time I had sat down in hours!

Not surprisingly, they both dived in on the biscuits first. I tried to listen to Hermione's advice about giving them a healthy snack after school – hence the fruit and vegetable, but they were never really interested in eating it. I grabbed one of their biscuits and dunked it in my tea.

"Hey!" Rosie laughed.

I just grinned at her and stuck the whole biscuit in my mouth with a big grin, Hugo giggled and Rose rolled her eyes at me.

It was calm as they munched on their snack, telling me about their day. "Do you have any homework?" I asked, hoping the answer was no – I wasn't in the mood to struggle with them over doing their sums or learning verbs or whatever other weird thing they'd been set. The pair of them shook their heads. "No reading or spellings?" I asked. They denied either – which I knew was a lie – they always had reading. "Right, so what do you want to..."

"Ron!" a voice called my name. "Ronald? Are you home?"

"Mum?" I asked, confused, looking around for the source of her voice.

"Grandma!" the kids shrieked and ran off.

Realising she must be in the floo, I followed them into the lounge, finding my mum's head in the fireplace.

"Oh, there you are," she smiled as I followed the kids in. "Hello Rosie and Hugo, my darlings." she gave them a smile before looking up at me with a more serious expression. "Ron, I'm really sorry. I know I said I'd have the kids for you tonight, but your father isn't feeling very well. Don't worry, it's nothing serious."

"But...Mum..."

She held her hand up to stop me. "He's come down with a terrible cold, so I don't think it would be wise for the children to come over tonight. He needs some peace and quiet."

"But...what am I supposed to do? I can't cancel, Hermione would kill me!"

"Well, someone else will watch them, I'm sure. I'm sorry Ron. I'd best go, I just nipped out to get him some Pepper Up potion and put the kettle on. Bye kids." She waved, and with that, she pulled her head from the fire.

"Damn!" I hissed. "Damn damn, bloody damn!"

"Daddy!" Rose looked shocked.

"That was lots of naughty words!" Hugo giggled.

"Sorry," I muttered. "Dad's just a bit stressed."

"You still have to put the money in the jar 'cause mummy says so!" Rose told me matter of factly.

"I'll get it!" Hugo ran off, gleeful. I groaned, my own kids were going to bankrupt me at this rate!

Once I'd paid up my debts, much to Hugo's delight who was now shaking the jar to see how full it was, I sat on the sofa and tried to make some kind of plan as to what to do with the kids tonight whilst I went to meet with their teachers.

"Dad, what we gonna do?" Rose whined. "You said we'd do something fun," she flopped down on the sofa beside me and snuggled up to me.

"Yeah, I did, didn't I? Erm...right..." I put one arm around my daughter and scratched my chin with my other hand. "Well, what would like to do?"

"Go flying!" Hugo sighed, the jar sat forgotten beside him and he was back to gazing out the window at the rain with a miserable expression on his little face.

"Well you can't!" Rose told him firmly (see where I got the impression she was the perfect mini replica of her mother from?) "How about getting the paints out?" she asked, looking up at me hopefully.

"I did painting at school today," Hugo grumbled.

"Not with our special paints you didn't!" she poked her tongue out at her brother. She was of course referring to the Wheezes product – the magical paints that made art work move and come to life once cast with a little spell and touched with a wand. "They don't have them at Muggle school!"

"Well, I don't want to paint now anyway," he sighed and turned back to the window. I felt for my little buddy – there were times I remember as a young boy when all I wanted to do was fly my broom and couldn't for one reason or another.

"Can we bake some biscuits?" Rose then asked. Hugo looked over, a bit more hopeful.

I looked towards the clock on the mantelpiece. "We don't really have enough time today, honey," I patted her shoulder.

"I know! Let's get all the blankets out again and build dens and pirate ships like we did last week!" Hugo began enthusiastically and was about to charge off upstairs to strip all the beds and find every blanket in the house.

"Hold on," I called him back. "Don't you remember how upset Mummy was when she came home and saw the mess we'd made and that we had pulled everything off the beds?" I reminded him.

"Aaw, but it was fun!" he pouted.

"I know it was buddy," I smiled at my young son, "which is why we'll do it again another time when we have more time to make sure we get it all tidied up before your mum comes home," I promised them both consiprationally.

They both giggled. They might like to remind me about my bad language and stuff, but we had our own little secrets that their Mum didn't really need to know about.

"We could do some funny dancing again?" Rose was eyeing the radio sat in the corner of the room.

I smiled at that. Sometimes, on rainy days, we'd put the wireless on and see who could do the most ridiculous dancing to whatever song was playing. Hugo usually won, if we hadn't all collapsed from the exhaustion of laughing so much.

I sighed. "Daddy's too tired today Rosie Posie." I stroked her ginger curls. "Why don't the two of you play a game?" I suggested.

"Okay," she sighed. "Wanna play Gobstones Hugo?" she asked her brother.

"Okay," Hugo whined, finally forgetting about the rain.

"Good girl," I kissed the top of her head. "Why don't you set it all up then Rosie," I asked her as I got up off the sofa to go and grab my unfinished tea from the kitchen. "I'll come and play with you in a moment," I told them as she crawled towards the cupboard their games were kept in and Hugo hovered behind, trying to help.

I drank my tea down, wincing when I realised it had gone cold and then tidied the kitchen up, whilst trying to think of a solution for finding a babysitter for tonight. I knew Harry and Ginny were out – they had taken their kids away for a few days since Harry had a rare break from work. Checking the clock I assumed that both George and Percy would still be at work, as well as their wives. Charlie was obviously out of the country at work again. And I knew Bill wasn't an option because he was busy entertaining his in-laws who were visiting from France. He didn't need my two kids on top of that.

And that's when I remembered that our children did in fact have two sets of grandparents. I could call Hermione's mum. "Rose?" I shouted from the hallway, "do you know where your Mum keeps that little Muggle phone?"

"You mean the mobile?" I heard her ask as she came to find me.

"Yeah, that," I nodded, meeting her in the hallway.

She sighed, rolled her eyes and turned towards our home office. I followed her as she was opening a drawer in the desk and pulled the phone out, handing it to me silently.

"Thanks honey," I gave her a quick hug and then looked at the blank screen on the phone and turned it around a few times, frowning at the damn device. "Erm...you don't know how to turn it on, do you?" I asked her sheepishly.

"Oh daddy!" she giggled and took it from me, shaking her head. Within seconds she had it turned on and the screen was lighting up.

"Thank you," I gave her a quick kiss on the cheek as she ran back to check Hugo hadn't been cheating or something.

It took some more fumbling and trying to remember what Hermione had done when she'd patiently taught me how to use the damn thing, but eventually I think I had managed to dial her parents number. There was a ringing sound anyway as I wandered back through to keep an eye on the kids - because sometimes they were the best of friends and played brilliantly together, and at other times they were fighting and murder seemed imminent!

"Hello?" someone answered the phone.

"Hello, Mrs Granger?" I asked, awkwardly. I really hated using Muggle devices – yes even now. I had to remind myself not to shout.

"Yes. Who is this?"

"Oh, it's Ron," I sighed in relief that I had managed to call the right person. The only other time time I had used it, and don't ask me how it happened, but I had managed to call the Muggle police! I'd panicked and shoved the phone at Hugo. They soon hung up when he began babbling away to them.

"Ron? Is everything all right?" she asked, sounding alarmed. I suppose I should have expected that, since Hermione only really used the phone in emergencies.

"Oh, yeah. It's just...I have to go out tonight to a parent's evening, Hermione has to work late and my Dad isn't well, so Mum is looking after him. And I just wondered if you'd be able to come over and watch the kids for me?" I rambled, frowning at myself as I wasn't sure any of that had made any sense.

She was quiet for a few moments. "Hello?"

"Oh, Ron, I'm sorry. Normally I would love to see them, but we're just about to walk out the door. We have tickets for the theatre in London tonight."

"Oh," I uttered and then put my hand over the phone. "Shit!" I hissed, missing the look my kids gave one another.

"Any other time, I would love to watch them, of course. I'm really sorry. Do you have anyone else to watch them?"

"Erm, er...no, not really." I groaned, sinking into the sofa again, watching the kids sat before the fireplace, flicking Gobstones at one another.

"I see. Well, not to worry, it's a parents evening you said? Just take the children with you."

"I can do that?" I asked, feeling confused as I ran my fingers through my hair.

"Yes, it will be fine. You'll find many other parents having to do the same. The teachers expect it and will have something prepared for them."

"Oh, right," I nodded, not knowing that little fact. Hermione has been insistent on us getting a babysitter for the evening. Though, maybe that was because after the meetings, the pair of us had planned to go out to dinner, just the two of us, for the first time in months. I deflated when I realised that wouldn't be happening tonight either.

"Don't worry, it will be fine. I'd best go. Give my love to the children and Hermione. See you soon."

"Yeah, thanks. Bye." She hung up and I was left starring at the stupid little Muggle device. Dropping it onto the sofa beside me, I groaned and ran my hands over my face. "Bloody fan'fuckin'tastic," I mumbled, feeling rather stressed out and pissed off.

I pulled my hands from my face only to find my son waving the swear jar in my face, a big, somewhat toothless, grin on his face.

"That was two more naughty words, Daddy!" Rose scowled at me.

"Eurgh, I wish we'd never taught you to count!" I grumbled.

"Come on daddy!" Hugo rattled the jar again, "time to pay up!" he giggled.

"Aaw, kids," I moaned, sinking further into the sofa, "give your poor Dad a break huh?"

"But mummy says..."

"Mummy isn't here, is she?" I reminded Rose. "So, what she doesn't know, can't hurt her, can it?" I raised an eyebrow questioningly.

"Is this like the paint mummy doesn't know about under the chair cushion?" Rose asked.

I grimaced, having forgotten about that. Hugo had managed to spill paint a couple of weeks ago all over the armchair. It had sort of been my fault - I'd been too engrossed in a Quidditch match on the wireless and hadn't been paying attention. But then he knew he shouldn't have had paint in the lounge either. Anyway, I'd tried a number of cleaning spells, magical removers and washing it the Muggle way, but all I'd succeeded in doing was smudging the whole thing into a bigger mess. So, we'd turned the cushion over and all swore never to mention it. I was surprised none of them had blabbed on me yet to be honest or that my wife hadn't found it herself.

"Yes Rose," I nodded, "kind of. Look, daddy is just a bit worried and upset about something tonight, I'm sorry for the bad words. But..." I grabbed the jar that Hugo was still rattling that was threatening to give me a headache. "How about I give you each a galleon and we'll forget about the jar tonight and Mum doesn't need to know?" I eyed them both seriously.

A smile grew on Hugo's face, before he punched a fist into the air. "Yes! We're rich!" he gleefully shouted and danced around the room.

Rose eyed me more carefully, considering the matter. "Well, okay daddy. But...naughty words are really not good!" she wagged her finger at me.

"I know honey, I'm sorry. Just daddy's naughty habit, but I'll try to do better. Love you," I gave her a hug and then tickled her. She giggled and squirmed out of my arms.

"Okay, okay!" she giggled, "let me go," she squealed as Hugo bounded on us too. There then followed some kind of strange group hug, dog pile, tickle attack, before the kids climbed off me, all panting, but with big grins on their faces. I might complain sometimes about them driving me mad and stuff, but I did adore my kids and loved spending time with them.

"Hows the game going?" I nodded towards the abandoned board on the floor, subtly changing the subject.

"I'm winning," Rose announced, rather proudly.

"No, I am!" Hugo pointed at himself.

"Stop fibbing Hugo! Only one of your stones went anywhere near mine!"

"Daaaaddy!" he whined.

I groaned again. "Be nice to each other. Now, go finish your game and then I'll play the winner, okay?" I promised. "Daddy needs another cup of tea first," I sighed, getting up and heading back to the kitchen.

What I really needed was a shot of firewhisky, but I didn't think alcohol on my breath would go down well at the school. The truth was, I was getting stressed out about these meetings at school. I still found most Muggle situations and culture uncomfortable – yes even though my wife was Muggleborn, I had Muggle in-laws and my children attended a Muggle Primary school. I might know enough through shopping in Muggle supermarkets or going out in Muggle London to get by, I understood the currency now in any case, but I still felt rather like a Bowtruckle out of it's tree.

I usually let slip something that I shouldn't or that only made sense in our world and then I had to back track to try to explain and just finished up tongue tied. Or I just felt like an idiot when they were talking to me about something of which I had no clue.

Eventually, after half a dozen games of Gobstones, cuddling together whilst reading a book that Rose had requested and then taking part in just one funny dance after they begged me to (no surprises that Hugo won – mostly because he pulled his trousers down and mooned us both) I noted it was time to start getting ready to go.

"Right!" I clapped my hands together after eyeing the clock. "Time to get ready," I informed the children, dread filling my stomach. Maybe I could tell Hermione it got cancelled? Nah, she'd find out, she always found out and it just wasn't worth an argument. I'd simply have to suck up the courage and get it over with. I had faced evil dark wizards, chased down bloody giants and man eating snakes…I could go talk to a primary school teacher, right?

"What for?" Hugo asked me as I shuffled off the sofa, turned the wireless off and then got down on my hands and knees to pick up their Gobstones that they'd left all over the floor.

"We're going to Grandma's, remember?" Rose told him, getting down on the floor to help me.

"Thanks honey," I smiled at her. "But, actually, no. We're not going to Grandma's now. Grandpa is feeling a bit poorly, so you'll have to come with me."

"But, where we going?" Hugo jumped down off the sofa and managed to land with his foot on one of the Gobstones. The stone in question burst and squirted the foul smelling liquid right in his sister's face.

Eurgh! Hugo!" she shrieked, wiping her face and flapping her hands around. "That's gross!"

Hugo laughed and then seeing his sister was about to give chase, he darted off. "Hey!" I called to the pair of them. "We don't have time for this, we need to get ready." I checked around and finally had all the Gobstones picked up, putting the board and the pouch of stones on the table, I chased after the kids, finding them half way up the stairs, yelling at one another. "Right, Hugo – shoes on. Now!" I told him firmly. "Rose, go wash your face and then come back down."

"But...where are we going?" Hugo asked me again, sliding very slowly on his backside down the stairs.

"We have to go to school," I told him, passing him his shoes and getting jackets ready.

"Huh?" he looked up at me from where he was now sat on the bottom step. "School?" he asked, incredulously. "But...but daddy, it's not morning!" he informed me, pointing towards the window where it was already dark – usual for November at this time of day. "And I didn't even go to bed yet!" he looked amazed and confused and as though I was mad all at once.

I couldn't help it, I laughed at him. "No buddy," I sat down before him on the floor to help him with his shoes, knowing it would be quicker. "You're not going to school to...well, spend the day at school. I'm not leaving you. I just have to go and talk to your teachers."

"Oh," he nodded knowingly. "Have you been naughty?" he whispered.

"What? No," I laughed at his question. "I have to go and talk to them about you two."

"Has Rosie been naughty again?" he asked.

"No," I ruffled his hair as I stood up. "I just have to talk to them to see how you're getting on at school or something," I replied. "I don't know, some rubbish your mum planned and then left me to deal with," I added under my breath.

"We're going to school?" Rose asked, stood at the top of the stairs drying her face on a towel.

"Yes," I sighed and checked my watch. I should have started getting them ready 20 minutes ago at this rate.

Rose shrieked, dropped the towel and ran back down the hallway.

"Rose! Come on, we need to leave in five minutes!" I called up to her.

"Wait!" she yelled back.

I groaned as I handed Hugo his jacket and then looked at his face. "Hugo, go wash your face too, you have chocolate all round you mouth." I could have sworn that hadn't been there a moment ago – had he snuck back into the kitchen and swiped another chocolate biscuit without me seeing him? Likely, to be honest.

"Okay..." he grumbled, acting as though I had asked him to do something incredibly strenuous as he trudged upstairs one step at a time.

"And for Merlin's sake, get a move on!"

Were kids just programmed to drive their parents mad? Were they born with some secret sensor that went off the moment they realised parents were in a hurry or busy, so the kid would switch to a go slow or something? I swear these kids, as much as I loved them, were going to give me grey hairs before my time!

Rose came speeding down the stairs just as Hugo reached the top, and presented me with a hairbrush and two fluffy, pink hair bobbles. "What are these for?" I asked, staring at them in my hand.

"You have to do my hair!" she told me, rather urgently, hands waving in the air.

"But, it's fine." I lied. It did look a bit of a mess – the plaits Hermione had carefully tied her hair up in this morning were coming loose, some strands of hair had wiggled free and one plait now hung much lower than the other.

"No!" she practically wailed and stamped her foot. "I can't go to school with messy hair," she insisted and thrust the brush at me again.

"But, you're not actually going to school. I'm just going to talk to your teachers for a few minutes and then we're coming home."

"Yeah, but...but what if Nina Stonebridge is there? She'll make fun of me if I have messy hair and...please daddy?" she looked up at me imploringly.

"Is this kid bothering you?" I wondered.

She shrugged. "She's just mean."

"And she's got a big fat nose!" Hugo added, sliding back down the stairs on his backside again.

"Is she being mean to you though?" I asked, worried that my kids were being bullied by some snotty little Muggle brat. I tell you, nothing brings out my old Auror battle instincts faster than having those I loved threatened in any way.

"She's just mean to everyone daddy. She's not very nice," she sniffed. "So, please do my hair?" she asked again.

I sighed deeply and glanced at my watch again. "Fine, but it will have to be quick," I told her, leading her back into the kitchen and sitting her down on top of the table so I could reach her easier, whilst also making a mental note to mention this Stonebridge kid to her teacher.

Now, being a bloke and never having had much hair to do anything with myself, brushing girls long hair into any style was not my forte at all. It was something Hermione always did for our daughter, so I had never bothered to learn. But, Rose had looked so sad and worried, I couldn't deny her. I managed to pull the old bobbles out easily enough, with only one little 'ouch' uttered. And even managed to brush through it all after untangling the half plaited hair.

"Daddy!" she winced, grabbed her head as I caught a knot.

"Sorry." I muttered, tongue out as I brushed through it all once more. "There, looks fine now," I told her.

She looked up at me as though I was insane. "You can't leave it like this!" she shrieked, holding out two strands either side of her head. "You have to plait it, like mummy does!"

"Oh Rosie...daddy doesn't know how to do that."

"It's easy," she rolled her eyes at me.

"I do it!" Hugo piped up, standing up from the floor where he'd been sat and I noted he had biscuit crumbs around his mouth again. Where the hell was the sly little git getting them from?

"No you will not!" Rose shouted and covered her head with her hands so he couldn't touch her hair.

"Well, I think it's looks pretty down, just like mummy's," I told her. "And we really don't have time to do anything else."

"Daddy, please. Just put this one bobble in? Make a pony tail, they're easy."

A pony tail, okay...I could manage that, right? Taking a deep breath, I tried to gather her hair together in one hand – the way I had seen Hermione do with her own rather effortlessly countless of times. Just when I thought I had it, a clump would slip free and I'd grab it, only to loose strands the other side.

"Dammit!" I cursed out loud, trying again. Hugo sat on the floor watching us, giggling. "Don't even think about it buddy – no more cash for you today!" I wagged the brush at him and tried to control this damn hair. To be fair, it might have been easier if our poor daughter hadn't inherited her mum's mass of curls. They were soft and springy and...hard to deal with. Now I understood why Hermione always got frustrated with her own hair and threatened to chop it all off on regular occasions.

"There! Got it!" I exhaled deeply when all the hair was finally gathered in one hand. And then came the tricky part of trying to stretch the elastic hair bobble over the lot without letting any of it go. The first hair bobble I pulled too far, it snapped and flew across the room – crashing with a ping against something on the shelf. If I was lucky, it would be that damn swear jar and maybe it would break.

"Shit!" I hissed under my breath. "You got that other bobble, honey?" I asked, sighing in defeat.

She handed it over. "Be gentle, daddy!" she was grimacing and trying to tug her head back.

"I'm trying, sit still," I replied getting really frustrated with it all. How the hell did women do this to themselves everyday? I started again, determined not to be beaten by a bloody hair bobble – I had gone up against Death Eaters, this bit of elastic was not going to defeat me.

I stretched it out again, slowly this time and not as wide, slid it over the bunch of hair somehow and rolled it to the top near her head. Only, it was too big and I realised I was going to have to wind it around again. Muttering curses to myself as poor Rose, bless her, sat wincing in pain, I managed to twist it and pull it over her hair and then it got stuck, large clumps of hair tangled in it.

"Ouch! Daddy!" she squealed, reaching around with her hand and touching her hair. "What did you do?" she whirled around with a face full of accusation.

"I'm sorry," I let her hair go as if it had burnt me, holding my hands up in surrender. "I don't know what I'm doing. I made a mess!" I cringed at the sight of her hair – the bobble well and truly stuck.

"You look funny!" Hugo chuckled, pointing and throwing himself back on the floor as he giggled.

"Not helping buddy!" I muttered.

"Shut up Hugo!" she hissed as her brother. "I want Mummy!" she sobbed, almost in tears.

"Oh Rosie, I'm so sorry honey," I hugged her. "Daddy is just useless with hair." SHIT! What was I going to do? We were already late, since we had a 10 minute walk from our usual Apparition spot yet and I was getting stressed and very hot and bothered. Hugo was still laughing and pointing at his sister and Rose was now crying. "Daddy's sorry Rosie Posie," I kissed the top of her head and tried to tug the hair free, she cried out and I stopped instantly. "Sorry, sorry!" I backed away, my hands in my own hair, grasping it as I wondered what the hell I could do.

"We goin' now Daddy?" Hugo asked, tugging on my trousers.

"No, I need to sort your sister's hair out, don't I?" I muttered, looking around the kitchen, hoping for inspiration.

"Why?" he wondered, peering up at me.

"Why? Look at it!" I told him, thrusting my hand towards her.

Rose looked at me sadly from her perch upon the kitchen table.

I chewed on my bottom lip, still not knowing what to do. Where the hell was my wife when we needed her? Busy at work, and I couldn't exactly go barging in there right now, could I? I could see it now, me bursting into some important hearing in the Wizengamot, claiming it was an emergency and then making everyone wait whilst Hermione sat and plaited our daughter's hair. Oh yeah, that would go down amazingly.

And then, turning I spied the rack of knives on the top shelf – out of the children's reach. Cut it. I had to cut the bobble out. It was the only solution. "We're going to have to cut it Rosie," I told her, rummaging in the drawer for some scissors. I knew there were a pair in here somewhere.

"My hair?" she shrieked, grasping her hands over her head.

"No honey, just the bobble. We'll cut the bobble out." I pulled the scissors out victoriously and approached her with them. She looked wary, eyeing me suspiciously. After the mess I had made, I didn't blame her one little bit. "Now, just sit still and..."

"Don't you dare cut my hair daddy!" she warned me, furiously.

"I'll be very careful," I promised, hoping I was able to keep it. Just using the tip of the scissors I snipped carefully at the elastic, a couple of strands of hair got cut too, but I didn't think she'd notice. And finally, the elastic fell in two pieces and began to unwind. "Yes!" I yelled, feeling triumphant as I set the scissors down and pulled her hair free. I managed to brush through the new knots I had created, as poor Rose winced and whined about it. "There, all better." I smiled, relieved I had got us out of that mess.

"But, its still not up, daddy," she sighed, running her hand over it.

"Be grateful you still have hair!" I muttered. "Hang on, let me try something else," I suddenly remembered something Ginny used to do. Having found a green ribbon in the drawer I had rummaged through for the scissors (and which was overflowing everywhere now) I cast the spell I had remembered. The ribbon left my hand and gently gathered the hair together, tying it all in a neat little ponytail down her back.

Rose reached back to touch it. "You did it daddy!" she cried in glee.

"Yeah, finally," I sighed, grateful it was over and vowing never to do her hair again. Or maybe I should get Hermione to give me some lessons. "Why didn't I remember that earlier?" I rolled my eyes at myself, knowing I could have saved myself ten minutes of anxiety.

"You're so silly daddy!" Hugo giggled.

"Charming, thanks son," I nodded at him. "Right, shoes, jackets," I grabbed both articles of clothing from where I'd tossed them over a chair, and checked we all had shoes on. "Let's go!" I took both of their hands, pulled them in close to me and Disapparated from the kitchen.

* * *

 _So, let me know if you liked it and I'll get on with editing the next chapter :)_


	2. Chapter 2

_Sorry, sorry, sorry! I had fully intended on getting this next chapter up much sooner than this. I didn't realise I had only written it in rough, so had a ton of editing to do with it. And then I had a family funeral (some of those ups and downs from January) to deal with, which totally threw me for a few days._

 _Anyway, it is here now and I really hope you like it – been working on it the past week or so (in-between playing in the long awaited snow!) Thank you for the reviews to my first chapter – very much appreciated and I'm glad those few of you liked it. On with this chapter…_

* * *

 **Chapter Two**

Because we were running late after the hair disaster, instead of Apparating to our usual spot (an old abandoned kiosk in the local park about a 10 minute walk away) I took us directly to the far end of the school car park, hoping it would be dark enough and full of so many cars that no one would notice us suddenly appear. Checking around before we moved from between the parked cars, I was happy to discover that my judgements had been right.

"Right, come on," I handed them their jackets to put on and walked around the front of a large car, only to make another woman walking past jump.

"Oh!" she grasped her chest. "I didn't see you there!"

"Erm, sorry," I muttered. "I, we, er..." I struggled for an explanation.

"No, it's me," she flapped away my apology. "The dark always makes me a bit jumpy," she laughed lightly at herself.

"Right, well, we'd best go. Sorry again," I told her, heading towards the school entrance.

"Okay, bye," she called and continued on her way.

Finally, we made it into the school and I paused at the secretary's office window. "Hi," I began. "I'm here for the erm..."

"Parents evening?" she sighed, sounding as though she'd had the same conversation numerous times already tonight.

"Yeah, that," I nodded. "Thing is, I had to bring the kids with me," I held up their hands still clasped in mine - I think holding on to them was for my benefit, more than theirs. "So..."

"Not a problem Mr Weasley," she gave a brief smile, "if you go down this corridor, through the double doors and turn left, into classroom 2H, there's a couple of members of staff with some activities for any children who had to accompany their parents," she explained patiently.

"Right, great, thanks. And, erm...where do I go when I've dropped the kids there? I have to meet with..."

"There's a list of teachers names and the classrooms they are meeting in on the board over there," she told me, pointing to it, but not looking up as she typed something onto one of those big Muggle contraptions that sort of resembled a TV.

"Oh, okay." I went over to have a look, found the names and their rooms, but still had no idea which way to go. "Come on," I told the kids, "we'll get you two settled first," I decided. And then I can wander around the whole school looking like a lost idiot, I thought.

I found the classroom for the kids easily enough and they happily ran over to play with some other kids they obviously knew. Rose sat at a table where paper and crayons had been set out and Hugo bounded towards the rug that depicted a town scene and was currently strewn with little toy cars.

"I'll be back in a little while," I told them both. "See you soon and be good. Look out for each other, okay?" I asked. They nodded, but I knew they weren't really listening, Rose was already chattering away with her friend, stating the reasons why purple was the best colour. "Right then," I gave her a quick kiss on the cheek, got down on the floor and gave Hugo one too and then slowly left the room, somehow wishing I could stay here with them or take them with me - maybe I wouldn't feel so stupid and out of place then. How absurd was it that my children already understood Muggle culture better than I did?

Of course, that that had been part of Hermione's intention for sending them to a Muggle school before Hogwarts. Not only so they got a good education in the basics and learnt to mix with other children, but, so they could also learn about the culture that was just as much as part of them and their life as Magic was.

Sighing, I headed off, trying to find the right classroom with the teacher I needed to talk to. In the end, it wasn't hard - Hugo's teacher was just two doors down, but she was still in a meeting with another set of parents. So I tried to cram my long, lanky frame into one of the child size chairs set outside and admired the artwork displayed on the wall.

After a few minutes the door opened and the teacher - an older, rather plump lady with a kind face, stepped through with the parents. "Please don't worry," she was telling them, "I'm sure little Mia will settle down soon enough," she smiled and shook their hands. "Thank you for coming." The parents thanked her before heading off down the hall just as she turned to face me. "Mr Weasley?" she asked.

"Erm, yeah," I nodded, watching the leaving parents whispering rather furiously with one another – I grew anxious again, wondering what they had been told that had them so upset. The last thing I needed was to get defensive over my kids in there and cause a scene. Hermione would never forgive me.

"Won't you come inside?" she asked, waiting with for me as she held the door open.

"Oh, right. Sorry," I smiled and leapt out of the chair. Now, it had been years since I had been in school, so why on earth did I feel as though I had just been called to McGonagall's office?

She closed the door behind me. "Please take a seat," she instructed, waving to the one in front of her desk. I turned, relieved to find it was actually adult size and she picked up a file. "I was expecting your wife to attend as well..." she began.

"She was intending to, but I'm afraid she's been delayed at work, she got called into an important meeting. So, you've just got me," I shrugged, sounding almost apologetic.

She smiled and nodded. "That's a shame. Not to worry though, I sometimes catch Mrs Weasley when she drops your children off in the morning, so I can fill her with anything necessary. Now then, what can I tell you about Hugo..." she paused, folding her hands on top of her desk as she perused the file, which I assumed was about my son, in front of her.

"Yeah," I coughed. "How's he doing?"

"Oh, he's doing well." she nodded. "He's settled in at school beautifully, which I know is always a worry for parents when children first start. He knows the routine now and he's made some friends."

"That's good," I nodded along.

"He's also a rather bright child. He was the only one who knew all his letters ad numbers, and was also able to write and read his own name perfectly when he first began. And he's still ahead of the other children with literacy."

I laughed. "That would be my wife's influence. She's big on learning and books. And Hugo often likes to sit with his sister when she does her homework and stuff."

"That's never a bad thing," she smiled. "He also has an incredible imagination," she chuckled to herself.

"Oh right." I gave her a fake smile. Oh bugger – here we go, I thought to myself. Time to try and explain all the freaky stuff my son came out with.

"Yes," she continued whilst looking through a pile of art work and completely missing my internal panic. "The class did some painting today and Hugo painted the most unusual picture. They were asked to paint or draw their favourite things, and this," she pulled a picture from the pile, "is what you son came up with."

I looked at it, biting my bottom lip. Although it was very childish and amateur, there was no disguising the fact it was two people flying on broomsticks. "Erm, right, yeah, that's erm, it's a game," I winced, knowing that sounded lame.

She smiled indulgently, Hugo obviously amused her. "He told me it was him and daddy flying on broomsticks in the garden," she chuckled, "and that you were playing a game called erm...queer...twitch or something?"

"Yeah," I shifted in my seat, feeling my ears heating up. "It's erm, just a game we made up, you know...make believe," I smiled and nodded to myself, hoping that sounded feasible. "He enjoys it,"I shrugged, "so we play it a lot."

"Well, it certainly sounds fun," she laughed. "And how imaginative with the brooms," she shook her head slowly, finding it all endearing or something as she set the painting aside. I kind of wanted to snatch it from her desk and hide it away before it was put on the wall or something – the less seen the better! "Oh, and then there is his fascination with dragons."

"Oh?" I began, cringing again as I scratched the back of my neck. "Dragons you say?"

She nodded. "He is rather taken up with them. Draws them all the time, runs around pretending to be a dragon during playtime a lot as well. And he'll talk your ear off about them if you let him. I must say, he does seem very well informed, knows a lot of varieties."

"Erm, yeah, probably because he's been into them since he was really young," I began to explain.

"He even," she paused to laugh as she remembered something. Oh merlin – what had my son said now? "He told me that he has an uncle who works with dragons and that at home he has a real dragon egg and toy dragon models that fly around his room." She was still chuckling to herself.

I wasn't laughing at all! Dammit Hugo! Everything he'd told her was completely true and after everything Hermione and I had told him about our Magic being a secret. Thankfully, coming from a five year old child it just sounded like he had a very vivid imagination. At least, I hoped that's what his teacher believed.

"Oh, erm, yeah. Actually one of my older brothers works on erm..." I scratched my head, damn, what were those big, really old creatures called? "Dinosaurs!" I blurted out. "Charlie works with dinosaur, er...stuff."

"So, he's a Palaeontologist?" she asked.

I nodded. "Uh huh." Whatever one of them was, I thought to myself. "I guess Hugo gets a bit mixed up and thinks they're all dragons," I laughed, hoping it sounded convincing. "Charlie gave him a, erm… a model of a dinosaur egg once."

"I see. Well, Hugo's a lucky boy. A lot of children, boys especially, are fascinated with dinosaurs. I wonder," she rubbed her chin, "would it be at all possible for your brother to come in and talk to the children about dinosaurs some time? Maybe he could bring some fossils and things to show them? I know they'd all immensely enjoy that," she asked, looking hopeful.

"Oh, erm..." SHIT! Now what had I gotten myself into? I couldn't very well invite Charlie into my kids school to terrify all the four and five year old kids with tales of ferocious dragon battles he'd witnessed, explaining what spells worked best in subduing a grown dragon or showing off all the ghastly scars from burns he'd received when he'd gotten too close to them. "The thing is, he actually works abroad, in Romania, and he doesn't get much time to come home," I told her half of the truth.

"I see, well that's a shame," she sighed. "We're always on the look out to invite interesting people into school who might engage the children for awhile. But, not to worry. It was a nice idea." She flipped through Hugo's file again as I sat there wondering whether I should have a little chat with my son again about how we keep all Magical stuff quiet at school. I suppose, to a not quite five year old wizard though, dragons didn't seem Magical or even unusual – they were just a fact of life.

"Now, Hugo's behaviour..." she began and I cringed again, wondering what he'd done. "Oh, don't worry, it's nothing too bad. I mean, he can be a bit dominating at times and likes to act the fool at others."

I couldn't help it – I laughed out loud. That sounded like the worst mix of his parents ever. "Sorry, I just realised how much he takes after both me and his Mum," I explained when she gave me a strange look.

She frowned, not finding that funny. "Yes, well. Like I said, his behaviour isn't too bad. He listens fairly well to the teachers and he rarely receives reprimands or loses stars on his chart. But, I have caught him swearing on occasion which we have had to have words with him about it. Now, I don't like to judge, but in my experience children usually pick up what they hear at home and..." she fixed me with a pointed stare.

How they bloody hell did she know it was me? Damn! I did feel like I was in McGonagall's office again and about to be given a detention polishing old trophys again or cleaning the potions lab or something.

"I'm sorry," I mumbled guiltily. "He knows they're bad words and that he's not to repeat them. But, I'll erm...I'll have a word with him," I decided. And maybe it was time to really start watching my language around them both a bit more.

"That would be good. And another thing." Oh Merlin, now what? "I have heard him call some of the other children a name that sounds something like muddle or muggle when he gets frustrated or they've upset him somehow. Now, I don't know what he means by that and it doesn't sound like a swear word or anything, but name calling is unacceptable. We try to encourage the children to treat one another with kindness."

"Yeah, right, I see," I nodded, trying to take it serious. "It's erm, it's not a bad word or anything. It, erm, it just means someone's being a bit silly, you know, like a wally," I shrugged, not knowing what else to say. "It's actually a family word," I elaborated when she still looked puzzled. "I grew up in Devon." I went on, as though that explained everything.

"I see. I'm sure he doesn't mean anything malicious by it, but if you could remind him it's not very kind to call his peers names."

"I will. I think Hugo and I will be having a nice long chat. Thank you for letting me know."

She smiled and nodded. "I'm glad you can talk to him, it's obvious that you have a close relationship with your children, which is lovely to see, a lot of father's these days seem somewhat absent," she sighed sadly. "Anyway, to finish I will just add that Hugo is a delight and an asset to the classroom. He's bright, friendly, happy, helpful and imaginative – all the things a little boy should be," she closed his file, signalling that she was finished.

"That's good to know," I smiled, proud of him despite everything else. I knew it couldn't be easy for the kids immersing themselves within the Muggle world and trying to hide what was essentially a huge part of them – their Magic, but they'd both really taken to it. Even better than I had and in a much shorter space of time. I suppose I also had to accept that Hermione had been right – this was a good experience for them. "Though, I wish he was a bit more helpful at home," I chuckled.

"All parents seem to say that," she laughed. "Now, is there anything else you would like to ask me? Any concerns you might have?" she wondered.

"Erm," I paused, scratching my head. I couldn't think of anything – I mean I couldn't very well ask her if he had any uncontrollable bursts of Magic in school, could I? At least, there had been no reports of anything unusual or impossible happening around him, so I think we were okay so far. "No. Thank you. I think you covered everything and it sounds like he's happy and getting on well."

"Oh, he is," she got up and went to towards the door. I took that as my cue to leave and followed suit. "You have a delightful son, Mr Weasley. Thank you for coming and please give my best to your wife. Tell her she can catch me in the mornings if she has any concerns."

"I will. Thank you. Bye," I shook her hand and before I had stepped away she was greeting another parent – this time a lone mother. I had to smile to myself as I headed back to the classroom to check on the kids – I wondered if she would think he was as delightful if she'd seen him an hour ago mooning us and laughing unkindly at his sisters predicament?

Finding the classroom I'd left the kids in wasn't hard – you just had to follow the noise! I poked my nose inside, glad to see they still seemed happy and occupied. Hugo had moved on to playing in the sand tray now, engrossed in filling a bucket beside another child. Whereas Rose had slunk off alone, sat in the reading corner. Noting I had a few minutes until I had to speak to her teacher, I plonked myself down on the floor beside her.

"All right there, honey?" I asked her.

She looked up from her book. "We going home now daddy?" she asked.

"Not quite yet," I pulled a silly face and she giggled at me. "Why are you sat over here all by yourself?"

She shrugged. "They're all just babies," she looked towards the half a dozen or so other kids in the room. She was right, the only ones here now were all much younger than her.

"I see," I nodded. "What are you reading?" She showed me the front of her book, 'We're Going on a Bear Hunt' - I'd never heard of it. "Is it any good?"

"It's just for babies really, I read this years ago," she sighed dramatically. "But they only have the books for the little kids in this classroom," she bemoaned.

"Well, not to worry, we'll be home soon enough and then you can get your hands on you Mum's copy of 'Hogwarts: A History' again!" I chuckled, teasing her, because I knew she'd been reading some of it.

"But it's a good book dad, you should read it. Mum says you hate it though."

"I don't exactly hate it. It just doesn't interest me, and I never saw the point in reading it myself. Especially not when your Mum knows it off by heart. Anything I want to know, I can just ask her." I nudged her with my elbow playfully and she grinned at me before returning to her book. "Well," I groaned as I got to my knees in preparation to stand up, "I'd best go and see what your teacher has to say now. Anything I should know before I go in there? You've not been swearing at school like your brother, have you?"

"That would be your fault, daddy!" she rolled her eyes.

"Yeah," I sighed, feeling a little guilty that it was my fault my son was in trouble. "You're probably right. I'll be back soon. Keep an eye on your brother, okay?" I asked, getting to my feet with an oof.

She nodded, already lost in her book again, I bent to kiss the top of her head before leaving them to it, going in search of Rose's teacher.

It took me awhile to find the next classroom, getting somewhat lost down all the corridors that branched off here and there. Just as I was starting to panic, I finally ran across a young man sat in a classroom alone with the door open. "Erm..." I knocked, "Mr Clayton?" I asked.

He looked up, smiled and then came to greet me. "Yes. You must be Mr Weasley?" he asked, shaking my hand.

I nodded. "Sorry, I erm, got a bit lost."

He laughed, gesturing for me to come into the classroom as he closed the door behind us. "Don't worry. I told the Head that I thought we should provide parents with a map. Even I got lost around here in my first week – much bigger than the school I was at before," he added as he took a seat at his desk, indicating for me to take the seat opposite. "Anyway, thank you for coming. You're erm...alone tonight?" he looked back towards the door.

"Yeah," I sighed. "My wife got delayed at work I'm afraid. She was called into a last minute important meeting. So, I'm here alone." I held my hands up.

He groaned as he nodded to himself. "And I bet you, like me, would much rather be home in front of the TV tonight, eh? It's killing me not knowing what the score is!" he grumbled.

"The score?" I asked, confused.

"Yes, the big match tonight!" he said as though I should know. I tried to think of any important Quidditch matches scheduled tonight and then quickly remembered I was amongst Muggles and he probably meant one of their boring sports like football.

"Oh, right yeah," I nodded, dumbly.

"Who do you think will win? Got to say my money is on West Ham, they've been playing well all season. But, then Man U are the bigger team, so..." he shrugged and brushed his floppy hair back.

"I erm...I don't know. Not heard much about it." I felt like a right prize prat as I fumbled for a reply.

"Not much of a football man then?" he asked. "Rugby? Cricket?" he asked.

I looked at him dumbly, wondering what the hell they were, thinking I had heard them mentioned before. Weren't they insects or something or….oh! Hang on, Hermione's Dad watched cricket – it was that really boring game that went on for days...or weeks or something.

"Erm, no. I...don't really watch much sport," I finally replied, being as honest as I could – because I didn't really get to watch any sport much – listen to it, yes. But it was rare I actually got to a Quidditch match these days.

"Oh," he seemed surprised. "I see. Well, hopefully no one will let slip the score to me before I get to watch the recording." he heaved a huge sigh. "Anyway," he opened a file on his desk and shuffled some papers around. "Yes, Miss Rose," he paused as he read silently through her notes.

"How has she been?" I asked, hoping to keep him on topic and not drift off into talk of football again. I barely knew a thing about the sport – other than that they only played with one ball – how boring.

"Well, you will be pleased to know we have had no more incidents like the one a few weeks back. I trust your wife informed you about all that?"

"Oh, yes." I nodded, thinking back on what had happened last month before half term. The children had been working on Halloween projects and when one of her classmates informed her that witches were ugly, evil old hags with warts on their nose, Rosie had taken rather an offence at that and poked the friends hand with a pencil!

Hermione had had to go in to talk to the teachers about it and the pair of us had a little chat with Rosie at home, explaining that most Muggles didn't really understand Witches and Wizards or Magic. It was all fantasy to them and something they read about in fairy-tales and fantasy novels, so that was all they knew – made up stuff they read and silly drawings. She was a bit upset that we'd punished her for it (two weeks with no Magical books) but, we couldn't very well have her thinking that stabbing people with pencils whenever she got upset was acceptable!

"I'm relieved to hear nothing else has happened, I don't really know what got into Rose, other than her being very upset. But, we've spoken to her and she knows she's not to do anything like that again."

"It was somewhat out of character for her, but everything between the girls has been fine since. Rose is a very intelligent little girl – her reading, literacy and numeracy are top of the class. She's confident, though sometimes quiet. And, she can still be rather...erm, headstrong at times – likes to take charge." He read his notes on her out to me

"Sounds exactly like her Mum," I chuckled.

"If she grows up to be just like your wife, I'd say that was a very good thing." Mr Clayton looked up and smiled.

"Erm, right," I commented, eyes wide in shock. Was he just hitting on my wife or something?

"A couple of things I did want to mention though," he continued, missing my expression.

I groaned inwardly, knowing this was too good to be true. What had Rose done that seemed weird to them? What other excuses was I going to have to make up on the spot? I glanced up at the clock, wondering when I could get out of here.

"Yes?" I instead asked, politely.

He smiled, he was obviously amused about something. My heart dropped – that usually meant one of my kids had let slip something about our world that sounded so improbable to them, they thought it was hilarious. "Our theme for the next few weeks is people in the community who help us. Meaning people like doctors, policemen, firemen, nurses, postmen etcetera. And, when we were discussing them, Rose, well first of all she refers to all doctors and nurses as healers, which I suppose makes sense in her mind. But, she also swears blind that a postman has never been to her house. Now, when I asked her who brought the letters and packages, she replied that an owl did."

I suddenly felt as though I had a huge boulder in my stomach. One of these days, would one of our kids reveal too much and get us into serious trouble? "Oh, erm...she did?" I smiled, pretending that I found it amusing.

"Yes. And when I pointed out that was impossible, well, she got rather upset with me."

I forced a laugh, which even to my ears sounded fake. "You know kids and their imagination, right?" I laughed again. "She probably dreamt it," I nodded.

"Perhaps. Rose does seem to have a very...vivid imagination."

"Nothing wrong with that," I shrugged, feeling myself getting rather defensive of my daughter. "Maybe she'll be a writer one day," I suggested.

"No, nothing wrong with it at all. But, it is a little...curious. She gets so upset when someone questions her statements and then she seems guilty about it and goes quiet."

"And you want me to tell her not to use her imagination anymore?" I asked, folding my arms across my chest and getting riled up now. Partly from what he was suggesting and the fact he was questioning my daughter. But also because it broke my heart that my little girl obviously felt bad whenever she accidentally revealed something. It wasn't her fault – she was just a child.

"No, no. That's not what I'm getting at at all," he waved his hands in protest. "I would never want to quash a child's imagination. But, maybe you could just remind her that not everyone shares the same ideas as her. Her imagination is neither wrong nor right since we all see things differently. Bust she shouldn't get upset when no one else agrees with her about...wild ideas."

I inhaled deeply. I suppose that made sense – it was something she was going to have to learn eventually in both worlds. I really wished Hermione was here right now though, because I know she'd have informed this teacher that children were free to imagine whatever they wished and shouldn't be judged, and she'd have done it with eloquence and confidence. Me, I just sounded like a stammering baboon! "Well, I'll see what I can do. But, all children come out with bizarre things at times."

"That they do," he nodded in agreement. "Which reminds me of something rather unusual that happened the other day."

"Unusual you say?" I squirmed in my seat, feeling sick with dread knowing that 'unusual' when it came to my kids, usually meant Magic had been witnessed by Muggles. With Magical children trying to fit in in a Muggle world, uncontrollable bursts of their powers were going to escape at some point. Both of ours had had episodes at home a couple of times – mostly during feelings of extreme emotion. Like the time Hugo threw a tantrum because we'd told him it was time to come inside and he hadn't wanted to yet. Somehow he'd made every door and window in the house lock so that he _couldn't_ get inside! And whilst I was thrilled that it meant they weren't Squibbs (Hermione had given me the dirtiest look for even suggesting such a thing of our children!) it also wasn't great news for kids who spent time with Muggles.

"Yes, I just remembered. It must have been on Monday afternoon, because it was during our PE lesson. See, a classmate had got the last skipping rope, which Rose had wanted. There was a little squabble, but I took Rose aside and let her know she'd have to wait for her turn. The next thing I know, the skipping rope is winding around the classmate's legs, making her fall over. It was very...strange."

I folded my arms again and rounded my shoulders in what I hoped looked an intimidating manner and regarded him carefully. "Now, Mr Clayton, surely you're not suggesting that my daughter tied a rope around some kids legs just because she wanted the skipping rope?" I asked, rather firmly.

"No, no," he waved his hands and quickly looked away from my stare. "Of course not. We all know Rose has a temper, but she's not calculating like that. Besides, she wasn't near the girl when it happened. It's just, I could've sworn that I saw the rope just...move, on it's own. Like...like it was magic or something," he gasped.

My eyes widened and I laughed, nervously. Really, freakin' nervously. "Uh huh...right," I muttered, not wanting to make much of it in case he became more curious. "Now who's the one with the over active imagination?" I asked, feeling rather clever for having diverted his attention away from it.

Mr Clayton laughed too. "I know, I know, it's totally absurd," he shook his head at himself. "It was just so strange, thought I'd mention it," he laughed once, with no humour, looking rather nervous himself. "Anyway..." he abruptly changed the subject, maybe sensing my tension, as he quickly opened her file again. "Rose is doing absolutely fine. I have no concerns about her – she's a very smart young lady and seems to enjoy learning. Books and story writing are her favourite subjects. She's polite and happy, has formed some strong friendships and is quite popular in the classroom. In fact, if we could just curb her temper a little bit, she'd be a model pupil." He closed her file and gave me a genuine smile. "You should be proud of her Mr Weasley."

"I am." I informed him. I'd been proud of my daughter from the moment she was born – every little burp, every coo, every hiccup...everything she did had me beaming with pride.

"Yes, right. Of course you are," he nodded, seeming to sense I was rather fierce when it came to my kids. "Is, erm, is there anything else you would like to ask me? Any concerns you may have regarding Rose?" he wondered, though it was obvious he hoped there wasn't.

"Actually, yes." I sat up straighter and I noted him lean back in his chair away from me. "Rose has mentioned a girl in the class who is being mean to her. Someone Stoneybridge or something? She was quite worried about coming with me tonight in case the girl was here to pick on her. Now, I want to know, is my daughter being bullied?" I demanded, leaning forward slightly.

Mr Clayton held his hands up defensively. "I can assure you Mr Weasley that our school has a strong anti-bullying policy. Anything that does happen is nipped in the bud immediately. But, I am aware of the child you're referring to and that she can be a little...unkind to the other children, Rose isn't being singled out. We are working with the child in question. However, I will try to keep them apart if you wish and keep a close eye on the situation," he offered.

"Good," I nodded. "Rose enjoys school and I don't want her to start worrying about coming."

"I promise it won't come to that. I think the girls have had a bit of a disagreement, but I will keep a closer eye on the situation," he promised.

"Thank you." I stood up then, assuming it was over. "So, if there's nothing else?" I asked.

"Oh, no," he got up to follow me to the door. "I believe that's...oh, one last thing," he paused beside the display on the wall. "We were doing some work on animals last month and talking about pets. The children were asked to paint a picture of their pet, and this is Rose's work," he pointed to a painting of a bright ball of pink fluff. "I've just always wondered, what is it?" he asked me.

I smiled. "That's Elsa," I recognised it immediately. "She's Rose's Py...et," I corrected myself, realising what I had been about to say. I suppose I couldn't berate the kids too much for letting slip a few things – it was hard!

"Oh. I assumed it's a long haired guinea pig or a hamster or something?" he asked, still curious about it.

Not knowing what either of those two creatures were or what they actually looked like, I just nodded. "Yes," I nodded.

"I see. But...well, why is it bright pink?" he asked.

I shrugged. "Why not?"

He seemed lost for words for a moment. "Oh...I suppose you're right. Anyway, thank you for coming Mr Weasley, we appreciate parents who take an interest in their children's schooling. And, if your wife has any concerns or needs to talk to me about anything, please let her know that I can always makes time for her," he smiled, a little too enthusiastically.

Oh, I bet you bloody can! I thought to myself. Yep – the man was crushing on my wife – the slimy git. "Thank you. Good night," I shook his hand and left his room as the next lot of parents stood from their chairs to meet with the teacher. I was finally free! Almost wanting to skip, I went back to the classroom to collect my children and head home.

* * *

 _Please let me know if you liked it – final chapter coming soon._


	3. Chapter 3

_So, here's the final chapter of this little fic – sorry for the slight delay in getting this posted, I wrote it over 18 months ago and didn't realise how rough it actually was. Anyway, I got it sorted and ready to post before I head off to London for the weekend (Going to see The Cursed Child again)_

 _Thank you SO much for the lovely replies to my last chapter, so many more of you seemed to find it this time. I shall try to remember to reply to people after this chapter, but won't be until next week._

 _Anyway, here you go, hope you enjoy…_

* * *

 **Chapter three**

"Daddy, can I have an ice cream?" Hugo asked me as he held onto my hand and we headed down the street, away from the school, towards the point we usually Apparated home from.

"Ice cream?" I looked down at him, "we haven't even had dinner yet buddy," I pointed out.

"Oh," he replied and then, "what we having for dinner then?" he asked.

I sighed, realising I still had to make something once we got back. "I don't know," I answered.

"I'm hungry," Rose moaned from just behind me.

"Me too, honey," I answered, just as my stomach growled. It had already gone past our usual dinner time and now I was tired – I really didn't want to have to get home and start cooking. Maybe instead of playing daft games with the kids, I should have prepared something earlier that we could have just heated up once we got in. I tried to think of something that would be both really quick and tasty to have. Then it came to me. "I know," I decided, "how about we get pizza to take home?" I asked the kids.

"Yes!" Rose exclaimed, excited at the idea – Muggle take-a-way was a rare treat.

"And...can we get ice cream too?" Hugo looked up, eyes as brown as his mother's pleading with me.

I smiled and gave in. "Sure, we'll buy a tub to take home for pudding, okay?"

"Yay!" he grinned and skipped on, dragging me behind him as we walked past the park – our usual destination – and towards the small cluster of convenience shops at the end of the street.

After I'd ordered the pizza – a large pepperoni for Hermione and I to share, and a medium cheese and tomato between the kids, which I would no doubt finish off for them - we nipped to the corner shop next door for the ice cream, before returning to the pizza place to wait for our order.

"Daddy, I'm tired," Hugo whined and climbed into my lap.

"I know, it's been a long day for you, huh?" I asked, wrapping my arms around him as Rose slumped next to me. At this rate, I just hoped I'd be able to get them home and fed before they both fell asleep on me!

* * *

We hadn't been home long, having just sat down at the kitchen table with the pizza's, when we heard the Floo whoosh into action in the lounge.

"Mummy!" Hugo squealed and went to get down from the table.

"Hold it, buddy," I caught him. "Sit back down and eat your dinner. Your mum will find us in a moment."

He huffed, sliding back onto his chair as he picked the cheese off his slice of pizza with a pout.

"I'm home!" Hermione called, heading down the hallway towards the kitchen. "I am so sorry I'm late," she added, stepping through the door.

"Mummy!" The children chorused enthusiastically, both clamouring for her attention.

She went over to give them both a hug and a kiss, before moving on to me and softly pressing her lips against mine. I sighed, contently – it always felt good to be back together, under the same roof. "Glad you're home," I tugged her back to steal another kiss. Had it only been 8.30 this morning that I had last seen her? It honestly seemed like it had been days ago!

"Me too," she sighed wearily, padding around the kitchen in stockinged feet – her shoes already been discarded. "Are you only just having tea?" she noted as she got herself a drink. "I thought your Mum was going to feed them?"

"She was supposed to, but...my dad wasn't feeling well, so Mum didn't want the kids over. My useless siblings were all inconveniently busy with their own lives. And your parents were going out, so I had to take them both with me to the sc..."

"How did you know my parents were going out?" she cut me off, taking a seat at the table.

"I called them, on the phone," I told her smugly.

"Really? You managed it all by yourself?" she asked, looking amazed.

"Sure..." I began to say, before I caught the look my daughter was giving me. "Well, okay, Rose turned it on for me, but I managed to dial them by myself." I poked my tongue out at Rose.

"Aww, well I'm still impressed, dear," she smiled, giving my hand a squeeze before spinning the pizza box around to face her.

"I'm sorry it's only pizza, just that by the time we left, we were all getting hungry and I didn't feel like cooking this late."

"I'm so hungry, I don't care what's for dinner," she sighed, pulling a slice of pizza onto her plate. "I hope you two were good for your Dad tonight?" she eyed the children.

They nodded big greasy smiles at her. "Uh huh. We did play at school," Hugo informed her.

"Yeah, they were fine. They'd got a classroom set aside with stuff for kids to do and staff to watch them."

"Well, that was lucky. So, how did it all go?" she asked. "Tell me everything," she looked eagerly as she ate her dinner.

"Oh, erm...it was fine," I shrugged. "No...major problems or anything," I added evasively and picked up my glass.

She gave me a funny look and I knew that simple response wouldn't satisfy her - she was thorough that way. "Hmm, well, that sounds...hopeful. I think. But we'll talk later then," she decided and I knew she'd be wanting a full report – maybe I should have taken notes?

"Anyway, how did your hearing go?" I asked, tactfully changing the subject.

She sighed and paused to wipe her mouth on a serviette. "It was pointless really. I mean it wasn't all that important or even urgent. Just some Pureblood elder who had been caught dealing in dark artefacts, throwing his weight around the Ministry and demanding he was entitled to a speedy trial," she huffed, obviously annoyed about it. I suppose I would have been too if I'd had to work almost three hours overtime when I had other plans.

"Still, did he get what he deserved?" I asked hopefully.

"Not really. A hefty fine, but he's loaded so that won't bother him. And a ban on trading full stop – which won't stop the likes of him and I keep telling them that!" she rolled her eyes. "Anyway," she waved her hand in front of her, "I don't want to talk about work now that I'm home with my family. Tell me about...oh, Rose, your hair looks pretty," she had only just apparently noticed it. "Who did that for you?"

"Daddy did," she smiled, running her fingers down her ponytail, looking rather proud of it.

"He did?" she looked at me, surprised.

Really? After all these years she still gave me that look of astonishment when discovering I could achieve something on my own. Really?

"Well, it looks lovely. Maybe daddy can do your hair more often if he ca..."

"No!" both Rose and I blurted out at the same time.

"Oh, well...okay then," she frowned, confused as to what that outburst was for. "Tell me about your day then?" she asked the children. "How was school?"

Both of them began to ramble on with different stories at the same time and Hermione somehow did a clever job of being able to follow each of their stories as well as ask questions or make the appropriate comments, without interrupting either. It was a clever skill she had and something I had yet to grasp. Though, I noted happily, most of their tales were full of what we'd been up to since we got home, rather than anything that had happened at school. It touched me that time with me obviously meant a lot to them and was memorable.

"And...daddy did lots of swearing!" Hugo ended his story.

"Tell-tale tit!" I hissed and poked my tongue out at him.

"Oh, he did, did he?" My wife turned her eyes on me, head tilted to one side in that way she looked at me when I had done something to annoy her or she was upset with me.

"He did put money in the jar though!" Rose stuck up for me. "But he said we were going to bank erupt him!" she laughed.

"Bankrupt," Hermione automatically corrected her misuse of words.

"Yep. And...there is no paint on the chair in the lounge!" Hugo shook his head, looking rather proud of himself.

"Hugo!" Rose hissed. "Daddy said that was a secret!" She nudged him.

He nudged her back, "I know, which is why I said there wasn't!" he hissed in reply.

Rose turned to me and gave me a dramatic eye roll as though she was exasperated with her little brother. Hermione just looked confused.

I suppose there was no wonder Hugo had trouble keeping Magical secrets at school when it seemed he hadn't exactly grasped the concept of what a secret was. For not the first time I wondered if we were expecting too much of them – something I'd discuss with Hermione again later, I decided.

"Can I have ice cream now?" he asked then, pushing away his plate where he had mostly only eaten the toppings off his pizza, his plate was littered with crusts. If it wasn't for his red hair, I might question where he was truly a Weasley, given his lack of appetite. Or maybe it was just all those biscuits he'd snaffled earlier!

* * *

"Is he okay?" Hermione asked as she slid the bookmark between the pages of her book and set it on her bedside table whilst I slinked back into our room after responding to the plaintive cries of our son.

"Yeah, he's just a big soggy," I replied, quietly closing the door behind me.

"Oh no," she sighed sadly, "he hasn't had an accident in over a year."

"No, he didn't pee the bed," I mumbled as I shuffled out of my slippers. "He just managed to knock his glass of water off his bedside table all over himself and the bed. I think the unexpected shower woke him," I chuckled as I climbed back into bed beside my wife.

"I see. But he's okay now?"

"He's fine. I got him changed, dried the bed out and he's all tucked up fast asleep again," I replied, snuggling down under the covers and shuffling closer to Hermione.

She smiled as I took her in my arms, laying her head on my chest, finally at peace. After we'd finished dinner it had been a whirlwind of tidying the kitchen, listening to the kids read their school books, getting them both bathed, reading them a story and putting them to bed. Once it was quiet, we'd both been busy trying to catch up on some paperwork we'd brought home. So, this was the first real time we'd had for one another since she got home and the first chance to talk.

"So, how did it really go tonight?" she asked, her fingers tracing the writing on the top I was wearing to bed – an old Chuddly Cannons T-shirt.

"Okay, I think." I sighed. "I mean, I felt like a complete arse most of the time, just really awkward and stuff. But, both their teachers said the kids are doing fine, praised them a lot – Hugo is ahead of his classmates with writing and stuff, Rose the top of her class in lots of things. They both said they were happy and mostly well behaved in class, making friends and how Hugo has settled really well." I told her the stuff I knew she'd want to hear.

"But?" she asked, knowing there was more that I wasn't saying. "That's all good to hear Ron, but I know there's more you're not telling me."

I exhaled slowly and rolled onto my side to face her as she did the same. "Our kids come across as weird to them."

"Is that what they said? That our kids are weird?" she looked horrified.

"No. They actually said Hugo is an asset to the classroom and Rose almost a model pupil...if she could just control the temper."

"She gets that from her father."

"Perhaps," I reluctantly agreed. "But...they kept picking up on things...that seemed unusual to them. You know, Magical things."

"Such as?" Hermione tried to stifle a yawn.

"Well, they showed me a painting that Hugo had done earlier of me and him...flying...on broomsticks!" I told her, waiting for a reaction.

"Oh dear," she failed at trying to suppress a giggle.

"Yeah, I finished up telling her it was just a game we played in the garden, pretending we had brooms," I groaned, remembering the entire conversation and how anxious I'd felt.

"Well, that sounded feasible, so that was a good save," she commented. "Did she seem satisfied with that explanation?"

I nodded. "I think so – she probably just thinks Hugo has a good imagination. But, if you think that was impressive, just wait, because I had to make up a lot of crap tonight! Hugo also told his teacher that his Uncle works with dragons and that he has a real dragon egg at home. So I told her that my brother actually works with dinosaur fossils and Hugo gets them confused. I thought I'd got away with that, but then she bloody asked me if Charlie would go into the school and talk to the kids about dinosaurs. Could you imagine Charlie doing that? Talking fondly about his favourite dragon breed or showing off his latest burn?" I shook my head.

Hermione was giggling now. "Oh dear. I am sorry I lumbered you with it all."

"Oh, but that's not all, love," I shook my head. "Rose has been arguing with her teacher about the fact a postman never comes here, but owls deliver our post instead. Apparently she got rather upset with him when he told her that wasn't possible. She's also painted a picture of Elsa for pet week. And she had another burst of Magic because she was angry with someone."

"She didn't stab someone else with a pencil did she?" Hermione's eyes widened in panic. Neither of us wanted to deal with the teachers or irate parents over something like that again.

"No...nothing that bad. And thankfully what happened looked just like an accident, but he noticed something weird about it. Rose fell out with another girl over the last skipping rope, the teacher intervened and told Rose she'd have to wait for her turn. So, your daughter used the rope to tie this girls legs together, making her trip over."

"My daughter? She's yours too, you know!"

"Nope...setting things on people to attack them is something you'd do. I haven't forgotten those canaries, you know!" I poked my tongue out at her.

She had the grace to look ashamed of that, even though she knew I was merely joking. "So, I take it this rope moved via Magic and tripped the girl up, right? I don't see how he can think our Rose had anything weird to do with that. What did he say exactly?"

"Just that he claimed he saw the rope move on it's own. I suppose because Rose was pissed off with her, he thought she had something to do with it. Don't worry, I stuck up for Rose and pointed out how absurd that was. I think I managed to make him feel like an idiot for thinking such a thing. But I still think he's suspicious."

"Hmm," Hermione thought. "I think we'll be having a nice long chat with our children again this weekend and remind them about keeping secrets of the Magical world. When people get suspicious, they start getting nosey and that's the last thing we need."

I nodded in agreement as I reached for her hand across the sheets. "Do you...ever consider that maybe we ask too much of them? I mean, they're only little kids and we can't expect them to always remember not to mention anything, especially when it's just a normal part of their life to them," I shrugged one shoulder.

Hermione stared at me. "But, you finally agreed that Muggle schooling was doing them good!" she exclaimed. "You said we made the right choice."

"Yeah, I know. But, I'd hate for them to think they had to conceal part of themselves or that they were going to get into trouble if they did let something slip. They're only kids."

"Who said they were going to be in trouble? We'll just have a fun chat and remind them what they can and can't say."

"I suppose," I relented, not wanting to get into a fight at this time of night. "I guess at least they're still at the age where most people think it's nothing more than a wild imagination," I shrugged again.

"They'll be fine Ron, you worry too much."

"Can't help it, they're my kids," I mumbled in reply. "Oh, and by the way, Hugo's teacher fancies you!"

"He does not!" she replied, incredulously.

"Oh yes he does. What was it he told me when I left? Oh yeah, that if you have any questions or concerns you wanted to discuss with him, he will _always_ make time for you. _Always_...he said."

She rolled her eyes at me and jerked the duvet up a bit more. "That doesn't mean anything. He was just being helpful."

"Yeah? Well you didn't see the look of disappointment on his face or how he gazed at the door hopefully when I wandered into his room alone. He _so_ fancies you!"

"You don't...no!" she gasped and buried her face in the pillow. "Oh, that is so embarrassing, how can I face him again?"

"Well, I don't know, but you could _always_ go and have a chat with him," I said through a splutter of laughter. "You know, since he _always_ has time for you," I teased.

She lightly punched the top of my arm. "That is not funny Ron!"

"No," I agreed, "it's not. Maybe I should go and have a little chat with him, remind him that you are a married woman."

"A happily married woman!" she corrected me, snuggling back into my arms. "I am sorry I wasn't able to come with you and left you to deal with it all on your own. It sounds like you did okay, though?"

I sighed and cuddled my wife. "I guess."

"Well, I plan on making it up to you. This weekend, Saturday night we can..."

"Get that dinner out we missed tonight?" I asked, raising as eyebrow hopefully.

"Well, yes we can do that too. But, I was also thinking that I could convince my parents to have the children for the night, or yours if your Dad is feeling better. Then, we could have a nice meal out before coming home to enjoy an uninterrupted night of adult...fun!" she smirked at me.

My eyes widened as I gazed at her with an open mouth – thinking Christmas had come early. "Or, we could just skip dinner and..."

"Ron!" she groaned and rolled her eyes as she giggled against my chest. "We'll see," she added then and I kissed the top of her head, squeezing her closer to me.

"Can't wait," I grinned as she raised her head from its resting spot on my chest to softly kissed my lips.

We snuggled for awhile, content in our warm cocoon and the rare peace in the house. "By the way," she suddenly spoke, "why were both you and Rose so opposed to you doing her hair more often? It looked really nice."

I groaned and pressed my head back into the pillow, hoping she'd never ask. "Let's just say I had a few problems...and, we got into a bit of a mess. I've never really tied up girls hair before and...it wasn't easy."

I felt her lips curve into a smile against me. "How much of a mess?" she wondered, sounding amused.

"We...broke two of the hair bobble things. One got stuck in her hair and I had to cut it out. I finally did what you saw with Magic." I mumbled.

She laughed. "Poor Rose," she shook her head slightly.

"I know, she was so brave, bless her. I doubt she'll ever let me touch her hair again though," I added and we both chuckled.

Yawning, I reached over to turn off the lamps, enveloping our bedroom in darkness. "Night, love," I whispered, kissing her once again as her eyelids drooped and a lazy smile graced her lips.

"Night, I love you," she murmured in reply as she settled herself in bed, turning so that her back pressed tight against my chest and I wrapped her in my arms.

"Love you too," I replied, burying my face against her neck, breathing in her gentle scent and relaxing into sleep.

"Ron," she spoke into the darkness after a few minutes, just as I was starting to drift off.

"Hmm?"I replied, sleepily.

"What did Hugo mean about there not being any paint on the living room chair?" she asked, curiously.

Damn! I was hoping she'd missed that earlier or at least forgotten about it. Not knowing what to tell her, I stayed quiet, hoping she'd believe I had fallen asleep and forget to ask me again.

"Ron?" she hissed my name again when she got no reply.

The only answer she received was a loud snore as I succumbed to the sleep I'd been faking.

* * *

 _Please leave me reviews if you liked it._

 _I shall be back soon with more writing – I have a few offerings in various stages of writing, I need to get back into the routine though as I haven't been doing as much lately – seem to have too much going in my head right now to concentrate._

 _Until next time..._


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